void that seems so, so cold and empty.
asaka lifts their head a fraction, just enough to look the * monk in the eye. they wet their lip with a pale tongue and says,
" so please, sōryo - sama, clean me. i'm so tired. "
" you offer cleansing, sōryo - sama, " asaka whispers and presses their forehead against the floor, closing their eyes tightly. " or so i've heard. that your temple is———clean. and i have many burdens to bear. "
their burdens that ...
weigh heavy, that clings, that wraps arms around their chest and tightens; sometimes it's hard to breathe.
but their burdens don't make manifest as something cursed. there are no creatures that hover or sit or crawls over them; nothing. only a ...
kneels and pauses. a bitter feeling swells in their stomach.
" i've never done this before, " they say, sourness in tone. " sōryo - sama. i feel dirty kneeling in your temple like so. "
it smells of incense and sanitizer. reeks, even, of sterility. like a morgue, somewhere too clean for live specimens to live. and the dead? well, they don't care.
eyes flicker and catches upon @SACREDAPOSTATE. the head monk of the ...
you remind me of some people i once knew. "
dagger raised high, chants on chapped lips, and promises in exchange for blood.
their eyes have yet to avert. a fly could land on the surface and they still wouldn't blink.
asaka licks their lips, then ...
@fIedgIinggod https://t.co/OmLPji1V7E genuinely i need to at least get back on my drifter bc he was THE BOMB to write. gross hobo vampire i want dead /affectionate
@fIedgIinggod https://t.co/OmLPji1V7E sometimes i look at both my drifter and victor and a single tear is shed. i miss my pookies but the fandom... oh this place is a cemetary